"Yes," Timothy York admitted frankly.
Yara Keats's expression finally shifted. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze turning sharp. "Marrying a divorced woman—and your nominal nephew's ex-wife at that. Have you lost your mind?"
"Haven't I been mad for a long time?" Timothy York retorted.
Yara Keats shot to her feet. "Have you considered the York Family's reputation? Have you considered how this will affect the York Group?"
At her words, Timothy York just gave her a quiet look, then said slowly, "You're not a York."
It was as if he were reminding her of something.
Yara Keats laughed. "Of course I know I'm not a York. But I know who raised me, who kept me from becoming an orphan living on the streets."
A flicker of emotion rippled through Timothy York's eyes. "You think he's the one who cultivated you, but you don't even know who you are."
"But I know who abandoned me," Yara Keats shot back. "And that's enough, isn't it?"
